


the bait and the broken heart

by feuenfeu



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Hosie, because he's stupider, because they're STUPID, eventually maya machado comes in, jasie flirting but this is hosie, jasie for hosie angst, no motw, no necromancer, werewolf!maya rights, what follows after season 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:01:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24975775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feuenfeu/pseuds/feuenfeu
Summary: Hope had risked everything to pull her friends back from the brink of the monstrous prophecy, but at what cost?It wasn’t fair, that the world was always against Hope Mikaelson. That the boy who meant the world to her left her one last time. That the people around her have someone to hold onto.And it wasn’t fair, to see that the lonely girl who wouldn’t let herself make friends for years, who finally opened up to Josie was shutting herself away from the world again, and from the young siphon witch. Not when she promised she’d stay.And it wasn’t fair, that the selfless siphon who cares too much is letting herself care for Jade while still thinking about how the lonely tribrid deserves the world, even if the world doesn’t deserve her.But it wasn’t fair the most to Lizzie, who had to watch these three gay disasters sort their issues out without communicating.Or,What follows if Hope had woken up to learn Landon had died and the Necromancer and the monsters were gone. Meanwhile, Josie and Jade grow close, but Josie still wants to be there for Hope. A familiar face helps keep Landon off Hope's mind. And Lizzie has to endure this painful slowburn between her sister and her best friend.
Relationships: Hope Mikaelson & Lizzie Saltzman, Hope Mikaelson/Josie Saltzman, Jade/Josie Saltzman, Maya Machado/Hope Mikaelson
Comments: 36
Kudos: 174





	1. the bait and the broken heart

* * *

> _The bait and the broken heart_
> 
> _A feverish kiss in her art_
> 
> _And witchcraft by the old picture_
> 
> _Curse forbidden morning scripture_
> 
> _On the altar triple lovers fool_
> 
> _Grieving lovers hearts shall duel_

* * *

The door to the twins’ room slammed violently shut as Lizzie waved her hand distractedly behind her.

The brunette witch should’ve dropped the book in her hands to match how aggressive the door was wobbling on its hinges, but this was the third time this week the blonde earthquake made the bed shudder, the reverberations traveling to her reclined body. Each day the aftershocks grew more frustrated.

“She’s not even opening the door to _MG_.” Lizzie shook her head, huffing with knitted brows. “There goes plan D.”

The pit in her stomach gnawed on itself again. She closed the book not bothering to adjust the bookmark. Truthfully, she hadn’t even read a word on the page, the thoughts of an auburn haired witch curled into herself on her bed making her reread the same blurry line without avail. _When did English get so hard to read._

“Josie!” She threw her pillow with the hedgehog laced on the front at her arm to orchestrate the gravity of the situation.

“I heard you!” She regretted how she answered, like she didn’t care. _Of course she cared_. Frustration laid heavy on her chest.

Josie automatically scooted herself to the left side of her bed to make room for her sister. Lizzie climbed onto the bed, her back up against the headboard. She let out a defeated sigh, staring at some random object in their room to concentrate. Or plot; each shared the same look on her face when she did either, and she knew her sister wasn’t one to even let the alphabet stop her from eventually reaching a successful plan.

Even resolving to the most absurd conclusions sometimes.

“You have to talk to her.” 

She trained her eyes on the hedgehog pillow. “She doesn’t want to see me.” She kept her voice flat, hoping her sister wouldn’t notice how the words caught roughly in her throat.

“ _Great_ ,” she eyerolled. “At this rate, we’ll be slipping her diploma under her door. _Assuming_ she passes her classes.”

“What makes you think she’d open the door to me if she didn’t open it for you?”

She turned her head to give her the most accurate re-enactment of _being done_ one might find on the face of a teacher before a class of idiots. Josie thought she probably picked that up from their mom. 

Lizzie opened her mouth but shut it just as quick, screwing her lips into some hybrid between annoyance and… hesitation, she thought.

Josie looked down at the pillow. Its beady eyes teased into her own brown ones. She thought the hedgehog knew something she didn’t know either and turned it over.

“Whatever, she…” she trailed off. _Wouldn’t want to see me_ , she thought, but didn’t say aloud.

Lizzie turned again to her as to let her finish. 

“She… Maybe she just needs time. To herself.” 

“The last time we let a witch bottle up their emotions without an intervention that didn’t go so swell, you might remember.”

“I remember.” She mumbled somberly, her cheeks flushing a little red.

She clapped her hands. “It’s settled. You’re going to go to her room, she’ll open the door, and if she makes a run for it, I’ll flank her from the halls. She hasn’t eaten so how far can she get?”

“This isn’t going to work.” She groaned, sinking herself deeper into the bed.

“That is exactly what you’re _not_ going to say to her when you’re behind her door.”

Lizzie leaned in and wrinkled her nose, disgust flaring her forehead. “Take a shower, I am not risking our best shot if she’s going to slam the door on you because you smell like last Tuesday.”

Josie jumped to straighten herself up on the bed. “I do not smell—”

“Also wear that soothing lavender perfume you had when we were fourteen.”

Josie was extremely confused with what the hell that had to do with anything. Lizzie ignored how violently her sister’s face had contorted into a question mark and continued. “She’s been crying and most definitely likely certainly has a snuffy nose. Spray on like, double.”

Josie still stared at her like she was growing a stalk on her head. Impossibly, she thought she actually heard Lizzie’s eyes roll before she clarified: “Perfume is the way to a snuffy heart.” She picked up the previously closed book and tossed it onto the floor. “So you’re going to get out of bed, take a shower, do what you need to do to make yourself look presentable for society and less of a sad deflated potato ridden with guilt.” 

She leaned forwards and pushed Josie off her end of the bed. “And finally get Hope to also re-emerge into society.” She shoo’d her sister towards the bathroom.

“Heart??”

“Nose, I said nose. By the end of this I do not want two potatos, I want two functioning witches.”

When Josie was finally scooted walking backwards (Lizzie ignored Josie’s stumble over the tossed book. She winced hurting its spine.) inside the bathroom Lizzie reached for the door knob.

“Oh, important,” she declared. ”Use like, words. English language. Not your eyes. That doesn’t help anyone. It’s the most frustrating thing in the world.” And locked the doorknob from the inside and shut her sister in.

If they weren’t related, Josie would’ve thought she’d just been kidnapped in her own room.

Lizzie calmly laid on her bed, a grin spread across her face thinking about how her new plan was finally in motion. 

She wasn’t lying when she said to Josie this was their best shot. She knew the two had the uncanny ability to open up to one another. It was also just convenient that they used to like each other. That just worked in her favor, she told herself. And she was just going to use that fact. 

Josie will get in Hope’s room, she’ll open up to her, and she’ll have her best friend back. No strings attached.

She smiled as she heard the sound of running water from the shower head turn on.

What could possibly go wrong?

  
  


A lot can go wrong it turns out. Even before your plan reaches the figurative and literal door.

Josie had showered (She did it to get the door open without her being shoved back in, _not_ that she was smelly) and dressed for Lizzie’s taste. But she had chewed the inside of her cheek and crossed her arms as Josie remained adamant about only putting on the ”recommended” and “normal” amount of perfume. Whatever. At least it was the lavender one.

And she let Josie head to the kitchen to grab some incentive or other to offer Hope because she hadn’t eaten.

Imagine her surprise when Lizzie went to the kitchen herself when her sister was taking an ungodly amount of time to choose food when there was a crisis on their hands.

And rather than finding her sister clumsily choosing between bran or chocolate muffin (or some other absurd love triangle with an obvious choice) she was _giggling_ with that damn vampire.

She didn’t immediately interrupt their, _thing_ , and kept herself behind the entrance’s door frame to stay within earshot of their conversation (for intel, obviously).

“Oh, thank you!” She heard her sister’s voice raise a little higher than normal. “It’s lavender.”

“It’s um, really good on you. You look, really pretty tonight.” Jade’s voice was soft and caring. A little nervous in her hesitation by the way she sounded a little breathless. Lizzie tightened her jaw. 

“Do you have any plans tonight?” 

“She does!” Lizzie found herself marching straight into the kitchen having all the intel she needed, two heads turning alarmed at her sudden entrance.

“We have a crisis that needs averting, so thank you so much for taking your time!” She crossed her arms and looked pointedly at her sister.

“Lizzie! I was— I mean—,” Josie’s cheeks flushed a shade of red as she straightened herself and met her stare unblinkingly. She looked down at her hands and suddenly remembered she was holding fruit. “Apple. I have an apple and I was just about to um warm soup.”

“Hmmph. Well chop-chop. Get a move on. Also don’t forget water. You can survive a week without eating but dehydration is where death draws the line.”

“Maybe take a gatorade for the patient?” At this point Lizzie took her first look at Jade. “For the electrolytes.” She clarified.

Jade was wearing a soft knitted baby blue sweater with the neck of it curled outwards. Her hair was up in a lazy ponytail. Lizzie imagined she probably came into the kitchen for a late night snack, not expecting company either.

“Thank you.”

“No thank you.” 

Josie turned at Lizzie’s curt reply.

“We’ll be fine. I’m in charge and this,” Lizzie gestured to Josie and the apple in her hand. “Is what’s best for her.”

“So, Josie and I do _not_ need your input.” She bit, standing tall with her weight resting on one leg, arms still crossed, and head held high.

Josie looked apologetically into Jade’s eyes, as Lizzie’s presence answered whether Josie had plans tonight.

“Right…” Jade excused herself softly and left the kitchen, not without sending a kind smile at Josie while she had Lizzie’s back turned to her.

Lizzie cleared her throat snapping Josie’s attention back to the situation. 

“Right, soup.” Josie bashfully turned to the stove.

Lizzie nodded once to approve (the albeit slow resume to her plan) and uncrossed her arms, finally leaving the kitchen.

And _of course_ she noticed the lavender. _Wrong witch_ , Lizzie thought as she walked through the halls. _She hadn't even reached her room and she didn’t know how to talk_. She would just have to prepare for that too. A way for her sister to practice talking to Hope.

When she was sure her sister wouldn’t ambush her again, Josie took out a gatorade from the cooler and opened it once to pre-break the seal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a hosie slowburn fic that's not one-shot. fair warning i'm terrible with updates bc i do too many things but this is one of my hobbies i'll turn to to cope with quarantine when im not editing, tweeting, or crying about hosie.
> 
> bc this is my story im going to do what the writers wont because theyre cowards and that means simulation crystal hope, eventual birthday party for hope with a dance, maybe a wickery game, and a dock kiss. eventually. also werewolf!maya
> 
> and angst. bc i hate myself :)
> 
> follow me on twitter/instagram :) feuenfeu
> 
> P.S leave me a comment and let me know if you're interested so i can see if it's worth carrying on!!


	2. in the silence of sorrows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🥺

* * *

> _Lonely can be in the teardrops on a bereaved person’s cheek_
> 
> _Lonely can be in the silence of sorrows too deep to speak_

* * *

Lizzie made her way to the guidance office. She glanced at the clock on the wall. It read just under 10 p.m. Enough time for Josie to be ready and come bearing gifts outside her door and for her to obtain her contingency plan before curfew half an hour from now.

It was certainly past visiting hours, leading Lizzie to skip the knocking and any decency to at least eavesdrop to be sure there wasn’t company, opening the door wide. 

“Emma can I borrow you for a sec—”

The guidance counselor turned at the unexpected visitor. Turning his head too was her dad, who straightened his stance after leaning on the corner of her desk, surprised to see her as well.

“Lizzie, what are you doing here?” As he got up she noticed the thin manila file in his hand. It was all too familiar for someone that had frequented Emma’s office regularly. The work she did on herself over summer meant less time laying on the sofa spilling her day, but where their school was efficient to brandish practically every item with the signature 𝓢, the cover of the folder was flat without any groove or hint of ownership addressed.

She narrowed her gaze. “Who’s file is that?”

Alaric followed her gaze and remembered he was holding something likely not for curious students by the way he covered and folded it inwards to himself. He rested his other hand over the front.

“Oh, just a student’s. Do you need something from Emma?”

_Odd_. Lizzie kept a mental note to snoop later on her dad’s shady behavior.

“Oh yes. Do you have another prism? The one used to manifest Frodo without a filter is probably 6 feet under muddy Mount Mordor.”

Emma gave her a curious look but nodded. Lizzie had ever the imagination for nicknames and metaphors.

“Here.” She pulled a drawer out from behind the desk and brought the crystal up to the light. It was a clear, almost white color, with a vitreous luster. She handed it to Lizzie. 

“If you need to talk to someone after you’ve had time for yourself, whenever you’re ready I’ll be here in my office.”

“Thank you, but this isn’t for me.” She left the office throwing a good night over her shoulder. Headed for her room, she rubbed her thumbs over the smooth feel of the crystal. She thought over who might that ‘student’ be that her dad was hiding yet _another_ secret about.

***

“You’re not serious.”

Lizzie gave her a pointed look, prism held up in her hand with her other on her hip.

“Oh my god, you are.” Josie groaned squeezing her eyes shut, probably desperately trying to teleport herself out of her room.

“You need to prepare. And as long as you’re on your magic detox, we have to use everything else at your disposal to do so.”

“She’s not a monster from the pit. I don’t need to rely on magic!” She looked back up. 

“Then why are you running away from her?”

“I’m not running away from anyone!” She said probably a little too quickly, even to her own ears. She drew her lips into an exasperated pout. “She’s been in the same place for days. Not exactly possible to run away from.”

“Well you’re avoiding her. Why.” Not a question.

Josie looked away, her frown complimenting her crossed arms. “We should leave soon, she’s probably starving.” 

“Nuh-uh. Do you know what your problem is?” Lizzie didn’t even let the question sit in the air before finishing herself. “I’ll tell you what your problem is.”

“You’re trying to be like cool and independent and not care for anyone but yourself to like grow as a pers—”

Josie shot her head up. “I care!” Her tone was quick and tangled with hurt, as if Lizzie had thrown some offensive curse. Though she hadn’t uttered a single spell, she felt vexed by Lizzie’s conclusion that her avoidance meant she didn’t care for anyone. That she didn’t care for _her_.

She stormed to her desk, not missing a chance to bump shoulders with her sister. 

Pretending not to hear her delayed _Ouch!_ as to not feed into her sister’s dramatics, she balanced the tray of assorted food in her dominant hand and picked up a book with her other. She cupped it under the tray so quick that Lizzie couldn’t catch the spine or its cover. 

Josie bumped the door open with her foot allowing a wide enough walkway for her and the tray to leave. Not bothering to wait for Lizzie’s go ahead. She ignored the side-eye she gave at the red gatorade. 

Alone in their room, a cunning smile played on Lizzie’s lips. She placed the crystal on the chest just in front of her bed (perfectly in any witch’s line of sight) and went in tow of her sister. 

***

Josie imagined at least two different retorts and played at least four different scenarios since charging out of their room. None of which would be spoken aloud. All of which would end in unnecessary collateral damage in the form of her ’misplaced’ ( _“Borrowed!_ ”) homework to placate blonde migraines. So, cold shoulder it was.

As she stood outside Hope’s door, tray in hand, she prayed her composure didn’t completely give away the bubbling irritation under her skin. Luckily, only the pale of her knuckles from gripping the tray likely a little too tightly seemed to be the only physical evidence.

But now that merely a door stood between her and the tribrid, suddenly her anger had transformed into hot uneasiness in her stomach without her permission.

Room 28. Perhaps in some ancient grimoire in a forgotten language this number meant the end of all things. A portent of doom marked on the calendar. Yes, that would explain how incredibly weak she felt right now. Never mind how her magic was imbued in the coin laying inside her piggy bank. That certainly couldn’t compare nor explain this feeling of powerlessness now.

“Psst!” Josie expected to see a head of blonde hair at the end of the hallway making a not so discrete reminder of her presence. Lizzie balled her fist, charading a knock in the air it seemed.

She opted to shoot daggers at her instead of responding.

Carefully, Josie balanced the tray and book in her left arm and knocked with her free hand. Three gentle taps. Not too harsh at this time of night.

“Hope?” She stilled her breathing to listen for any movement behind the door. A soft shuffle of blankets.

“Hope, it’s Josie.” A beat of silence. Josie swallowed thickly as to lessen the lump of emotion in her throat. “Can we talk?” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Another uncomfortable silence.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The number 28 stared back at her blankly. Unrelenting in its cold, empty answer.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Josie felt herself sigh, her hearing betraying her in the deafening silence. All her nerves had numbed into embarrassment.

The siphoner gently placed the tray in front of the door. She slipped the book back into both of her hands, thumbing its spine as the cover’s golden letters smiled at her. Something new of something old: a book of fairytales. She hoped it could give Hope that same sense of warm comfort she found in it when she was small. An unspoken prayer that someone cared about her. An unspoken reminder that someone was thinking of her.

Carefully, she slid it into the space between the door and the floor and got up from her knees. Delicate dings echoed through the melancholic air as the spoon tickled the bowl’s edge, disturbed by the witch’s movements.

As the young siphon walked away, both she and the door to Room 28 sighed in quiet heartbreak.

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the kind kudos and comments 🥺
> 
> hosies we are such masochists istg
> 
> also getting the hang of formatting i think


	3. fair is foul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait 🥺 
> 
> this chapter is still setting up the story + this is a super slowburn hosie fic so theyre not interacting with each other just yet, so here's lizzie humorously teasing josie :D

* * *

> _Fair is Foul, Foul is Fair_

* * *

“What the hell was that?!” Lizzie hissed as Josie rounded her obvious spy-corner. The brunette pretended not to hear her and carried on walking.

Lizzie wouldn’t make her escape that easy. She flung herself in front, arms outstretched blocking her path. “Where do you think you’re going? You are _not_ aborting this mission already, so help me God—you need to get your panic in check!”

Josie gritted her teeth. “It’s not an abort. I told you, I’m giving her space. Let me past!” She pushed her arm down, but Lizzie wouldn’t budge. 

“Our room is back there.” She nodded her head towards the hallway where their room sat across Hope’s dorm.

“Thank you, Magellan.” She replied with no small amount of sarcasm. As if she couldn’t make herself more obvious that she was not planning to return to their room, she resorted to testing Lizzie’s other arm if it could waver to her pushing.

“Hey-hey! Okay, fine.” Lizzie raised her hands placating for Josie to listen. Josie crossed her own arms, arching a brow. “If you’re giving her space, fine. We have a new mission, anyways.”

Josie let out an annoyed sigh at the implication of being involved in yet another plan she had no knowledge of until this moment. 

She carried on. “Dad’s being shady again. Hiding something about a student or other from us.”

“Did it occur to you that student files are confidential?”

Lizzie feigned offense at that, an affronted look forming her mouth. “Are you condoning our father keeping secrets? From us? When it could very well mean the fate of our futures or—”

“Or be something as simple as a student’s transcripts. Medical records. _Confidential_ psych evaluation,” she deadpanned. 

“Or information about the Merge from mom.” 

“If they knew anything, they’d tell us.”

What? Lizzie was sure she hadn’t heard _that_ correctly, coming from Josie of all people. Josie, who dogged their dad down for a good start of their summer for answers. The incredulous retort was enough however to stun Lizzie and give Josie the opening she needed to push past her.

But she remained persistent and reformed her stance. Lizzie swiveled around and was once again throwing her arms out as the dam to Josie’s torrential efforts to jet around.

“No, Jo!” The brunette grunted a dragged out _ughh_ at her sister’s persistence. “Don’t project your frustrations on me!” 

“I am not. Frustrated.” Josie bared her teeth at that. She stood back and crossed her arms, leaning all her weight onto her left.

“Yeah? Tell that to your face.” Lizzie screwed her brows intensely, examining her sister’s _very_ guarded and frustrating behavior. Josie chewed her lip and looked away from Lizzie’s scrutinizing study.

“When we figure it out, Hope will still be in her room, and we will have answers to our own questions. Everyone wins— this operation has no relation to Hope!” At that last part she tried to put on her best assuring voice, but it just sounded too extra to be a genuine promise to Josie, it seemed.

Josie relented a grumbled _‘fine’_ and was suddenly wrapped in an excited victory hug by Lizzie.

***

Outside the guidance office, Lizzie had her ear pressed up to the door, listening intensely to be sure it was empty this time. This black bag operation required tact.

Lizzie had briefed her on their way there. “I’m going to check to see if the coast is clear, open the door with magic if necessary, and you’ll watch my 6 o’clock.”

“Your what?” 

“My behind.”

“Then just say behind.”

“Okay, no one will take you seriously if you don’t use the espionage terms.”

“This isn’t _James Bond_ —”

“—But if it were, I would be the Double O Seven. And M. And my own Vesper —until she died, obviously, which is something I’m legally not permitted to do unless it is in a blaze of glory, by the way.”

Josie had no idea how this conversation had suddenly parkoured from doors to clocks to mortality. She always tuned out of those movie marathons, finding films romanticizing womanizers and heavy with toxic masculinity gross. Although, she did find resonance with the formidable (despite such an obscene name that would garner an eyebrow raise in any context) queer icon, Pussy Galore, that didn’t take shit from the titular protagonist.

“Then why did you need me here if you’re doing this apparently solo? I can sneak in and slip out with the folder—.”

“You and I both know that you can’t sneak away from a locked room with a confidential paper if you were thinking straight. Or in your case, not.”

Josie opened her mouth to say something to that oddly specific callout as the tips of her ears burned, but Lizzie wasn’t finished. “I would prefer not to wake up to a fiery hell blazing in this room and jeopardizing what little time we already see our very absentee father to play fireman.”

“That’s not fair to dad.” She pouted. “You know he’s been readjusting as Headmaster, on top of meeting with the Sheriff a lot recently.”

“MEETING, L-O-L” Lizzie let out a snort at her sister’s cute naïveté, shaking her head at Josie's (oblivious) perplexed face.

At the door, Lizzie whispered that the room seemed empty and tested the doorknob. Emma’s assurance earlier that she’d be here for guidance played an ironic smile on the blonde’s lips. _Thank you Emma, for being reliably unreliable and absentee._ Lizzie figured that must’ve been a running requisite when staff were screened before being hired.

The door clicked open and Lizzie peered her head in. She carefully searched the wall for the light switch and opened the door wider as soon as it flicked on. Josie stood behind her, sharing her attention between watching the hall and her sister.

Lizzie went straight to Emma’s desk, kneeling before the locked drawers in the front. She hoped that’d be a reasonable place to put a “new” file in before it was properly sorted with the others. Besides, this manila file was not like the others ✨.

“Hurry!” Josie whisper-yelled by the door. She had positioned herself inside the office and closed the door just enough to observe the hallways.

“ _Shh_ , we’re not supposed to be here!” Lizzie shook her head. _She’d make a terrible spy_ , she thought to herself. 

Lizzie opened the topmost drawer with the help of an elementary spell. She combed through the files stacked onto each other, looking for the specific, signature-less file.

“Anything?” Josie whispered, her eyes glued to the halls. Lizzie was sure she could see her nervous energy travel erratically through waves in the air, if she didn’t already feel her uneasiness through their twin connection.

Manila this, manila that. Sticky notes pink yellow blue and green. “No…” Lizzie pursed her lips. One without a single note or 𝓢 impressed on the corner lay dead center of the stack.

“Aha!” She yanked it out hurriedly and flipped it open. Honestly, the mundaneness of the details inside immediately put a frown to her face. She’d been secretly hoping she’d actually come across something referencing their Gemini lineage.

“You were right. Some student’s transcripts.” 

“So we can go now?” Josie looked back at her sister briefly.

“Yup. Can’t wait to hear dad tell us to tourguide the enemy around.” She slapped the closed file on the top of the desk, disappointed nothing interesting ever happened around here. 

Josie focused her attention to where she had dropped the file. “What do you mean _enemy_?”

“I _mean_ , this Timberwolf actually barks.” She lazily stood up, smoothing out her skirt.

Josie zeroed in on the file and flipped through it, desperately hoping it was no one she recognized, especially a certain teen Captain America. Lizzie was rather surprised at her sister’s sudden interest at the typical file of the new teen.

An inexplicable bout of panic (perhaps the color of green, though she would never admit it) flipped her stomach.

A few months had passed since she and #11 from the first flag football game had faced each other. She and Landon (had it really been only a week?) stood opposite Hope and #11 under the same beating sun.

It was #11 who had shot her daggers when she cast the illusion of the football in her arms to distract her and let the Stallions score.

Then when the ambulance came to carry the boy whose arm she broke, it was #11 who put her into a headlock when the brawl had broken out.

And it was #11 with piercing dark eyes and steep arched brows whose face stared intensely back at her wide brown ones, like she knew what she had done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> josie's kinda not doing great rn or in the next chapter so far
> 
> setting up haya tho 😈 
> 
> thank you for the kind kudos & comments :) i'll be replying shortlyy
> 
> my twitter is @ feuenfeu if you'd like to see more of my spiraling hosie thoughts <33


End file.
